We Still Have a Chance
by emryslovely
Summary: Merlin and Morgana have a chat by the Lake of Avalon and discover something about each other. Set after s3.


_**Summary: **__Merlin and Morgana have a talk by the Lake of Avalon. Set after s3, meant to take place in s4. _

_**Disclaimer: **__If I owned Merlin, things would be a lot different. And these two would probably be screwing._

Silence, save for the trickling of water over rocks as the crystal-clear stream em,ptied into the deep, dark lake of Avalon. Merlin surveyed the scene around him in a sort of awe, for it had an eerie beauty to it. The way the moon reflected off the calm, glassy water; the way the soft mist beginning to fall diffused the light and softened the harsh edges of the image. The mountains beyond the forest were a distant blur, enveloped by the ever-thickening fog, which hung and cooled the air surrounding Merlin as he sat on a rock by the water's edge. It was a scene few people would ever see or have the pleasure of experiencing. The things of this place seemed surreal, like a dream. Merlin put his hand in front of his face and watched its movement against the ghostly backdrop. It just didn't seem natural.

And then something tore the blanket around him, ripped through the tapestry bearing this image, this image of calm and silence.

An indistinguishable silhouette appeared before him, but as it moved closer, Merlin could tell exactly who it was. The long flowing black hair and the precise way her dress hung from her body were unmistakable.

She glided to him gracefully through the fog, breaking no silence with her footsteps as she moved closer to the place where he sat, frozen in surprise and a bit of fear. He could not see her face, but he was unsure if he wanted to.

She stopped a distance away from him, plenty out of his reach, but close enough to intimidate him.

He expected her to say something, to shatter the quiet, but she said nothing.

With no warning, Morgana swiftly reached to a drawstring pouch that hung from her belt. She then raised her hand to the level of her eye, a large object contained within her fingers. Pale moonlight glittered off its surface, and Merlin came to a realisation of what it was.

"Morgana…" he whispered. What could he say? He wanted to warn her, warn her of what dangers lie in her actions, warn her of the burdens she was placing upon herself by peering into a crystal such as that one, but he could find no words. She cut him off.

"Why are you so against me, Merlin?" She lashed out, throwing the crystal to the ground. It rolled across the dirt before coming to a halt near his feet.

He watched her for a moment, studied her stance, her figure. She breathed heavily, her shoulders heaving.

"Well?"

He took a sharp breath. "What do you want from me?"

"That isn't an answer, Merlin."

He thought over a response, attempting to choose his words carefully. "I'm not against you, Morgana." As soon as the sentence left his lips, Merlin knew it was a mistake.

"Lies," she hissed through her teeth in reply.

Merlin;s breath grew deeper as he became more anxious. "No, I'm not lying. I'm not against you, I've never been against you."

"You know, I didn't know you really were as stupid as Arthur always made you out to be."

Her words stung a bit, but he didn't dwell on them long. "Why did you come here?"

Morgana stepped a bit closer to him. "I saw something interesting. Something this crystal told me."

Merlin gulped. "And what was that?" he asked, backing up slightly. What was she planning to do to him?

She paused, reaching down and picked the crystal up once more. "Do you know what crystals such as this one show me?"

Of course he knew; for he had looked into one himself, had seen the future, the infallible events yet to come. But he could not tell her that. He simply answered, "What?"

"This shows me the future. It shows me what will come to pass. I cannot change these images any more than one can change who their mother or father is, as much as some may want to. These visions are of fate." She stroked the glassy surface with her fingertips. "I've seen something, Merlin, something so dangerous, something so powerful. Something so extraordinary. And do you know what it is?"

He shut his eyes "Morgana, you don't know what the things you've seen can do to a person or what they can do to you. Trust me, I know. Fate is a fickle, unreliable thing. Whatever it is you've seen, it will hurt you and countless others."

Her fingers tightened over the crystal and her other hand hung limp at her side. She promptly whipped it around and slapped him across the face so hard he was knocked from his seat onto the saturated ground.

She stood over him in a rage, glaring, and began to scream.

"Do you realise what I've seen? I've seen you1 I've seen your power, your true self, your future, your fate! Don't you think I understand exactly what is to come of this? What the consequences of seeing these things could be? I know exactly what you are. I know exactly who you are, and what you'll become!"

He lay there in shock, holding his cheek, which still stung from the blow; however, that wasn't what he cared about.

So she knew. Everything.

"Morgana," he repeated as tears dripped off the end of his nose. "Please."

"'Please'? All you can say is 'please'?"

He couldn't look up at her. He didn't want to see the harsh, angry glare he knew he was receiving. He expected another blow, perhaps a kick to the groin or stomach this time. He curled up into a ball, preparing himself, but no strike came.

Instead, Morgana threw herself to the ground next to him, gasping out sobs and wailing. This strange, pitiful sight shocked Merlin. He watched as she shoved her emotions out in the open, dumped them on the ground in the forms of weeping and tears. He watched her cling to the grass in desperation. He let her be, allowed her to vent her anger and frustration. And while she did so, he watched.

He had never seen her like this before, and he was ashamed to admit that he was fascinated by it. Morgana had always been the kind of person that hid her feelings, held them in, concealed them under fancy dresses and beautiful jewelry. To see her pour all of what was really bottled up inside was a strange, foreign thing to Merlin.

Once she had calmed herself down a bit, Morgana turned over and lay on her back, staring up at the partially cloudy sky. She stayed in this position for a while, saying nothing. All Merlin could do was examine her, her posture, her expression, the few tears that continued to roll down the sides of her cheeks. He wanted to reach out and wipe them away, and he almost did, but before he could reach his hand out, she spoke.

"You could have helped me." Her voice was cracked and broken.

He whispered, "I know."

"I was all alone," she croaked, "but I really wasn't."

"I know."

"Morgause was my only option. I had no choice."

"There's always a choice."

Neither one spoke for a while; they simply maintained their positions in the dirt and grass.

Merlin decided to talk. "I've never been against you, Morgana. Never."

Her shrill laugh rang across the lake and echoed back to them.

"Really, Merlin? Because poisoning one of your own kind isn't any sort of ultimate betrayal at all."

How could he argue with her? "You were the magical link to the knights that invaded Camelot; it was the only way."

She turned over on her stomach and pounded her fist to the ground with each sentence. "Why do you think I chose this path? Why do you think I wanted to go with Morgause? Because she was the only one who could ever understand me!" Morgana collapsed once more. "Except you. But it's too late for you. I've seen what is to come of us. No happiness lies in those places where our paths cross. None. And that is the truth."

Merlin saw that she still held the crystal within her hand. She clinged to it as if it were her life force.

He sat up a bit too quickly but ignored the resulting head rush. Slowly, to avoid frightening her, he bent down and slid the crystal out of her hand. She did not resist as it was plucked from her fingers.

He stared at it a bit, careful to avoid looking into the heart of it. He didn't wish to see anything it wanted him to know.. After examining it for a while, he cast it out to the water, where it sunk to the bottom and caused ripples to dance across the surface.

He turned back to face her wrath, but her eyes did not contain anger, or fear, or pain. They danced with fascination.

"We can change it. We still have a chance." He held his hand out for her to take, and to his surprise, she did so.

He pulled her up gracefully, and even when she was on her feet, their hands didn't part. Fingers entwined, they looked into each other's eyes.

And for one moment, one tiny, shining moment, Merlin had hope. He had hope that perhaps they could change it. They had their chance. He could see it in her eyes; she wanted it too. He could see a flicker of hope there.

In a blur of lace and skin, Morgana hastily reached out, wrapped her hand around his neck, and tugged him to her, shoving her lips against his. Their tears mingled on their skin, a sharing of their souls and feelings, a connection. They moved with each other, a perfect match, their lips seemingly created to fit together. Merlin could feel the fire and heat and passion she put into this, and he matched it fervently.

And then, suddenly, without warning, she pulled away. Merlin's lips tingled and ached for more, to be pressed once again up against their perfect match. He stared at her with a longing, a desire. And she stared back with the same.

"But I don't think we do, Merlin."

In what seemed like an instant, she disappeared into the haze, her long cloak of lace billowing behind her.

And he watched her go, unable to do anything, unable to chase after her, or stop her, or feel angry at her, because he knew she was right.

"No, I guess we don't."


End file.
